Chapter Six Part Two
The scratching sound of pen against paper was starting to drive him mad. Minute after minute, insistent scratching and scribbling pounded in his already filled brain and he fought off the urge to grab the damn pen and snap it in two. Instead Sasuke merely took a few deep breaths and tried to calm his impulsive and emotionally-driven desires. Bored, his eyes roamed the small office he was in. It had a couch, in which he sat in, with pretty flowered fabric, the type of plastic-feeling, happy and brightly colored fabric that made him queasy to look at. The wooden walls were bashfully bare except for a few certificates and he squinted to read the fancy calligraphied writing. A diploma, a few rewards. The only other furniture in the room was a desk, a comfortable leather chair, a waste basket, and a large computer on the desk. The woman sitting in the chair, still writing with that damn detestable pen with its neverending scrawl was pretty and lushly bestowed, but he was more interested in the pattern of the floor than the generosity of her curves and the tightly hugging shirt that clung to her slim waist. Her stockinged legs were long and leggy, her feet in high heels so high he marveled at them; it was like she was walking on stilts, the things were so high. Finally, the pen stopped its writing and she smiled at him, a pretty little curve of her full, red mouth that would make any straight man drool. He ignored it. “So -” he said, his voice clipped, short, to business. “What do you think?”
The woman - whose name started with an M, he thought, or was it an N? - consulted her lengthy notes that had taken her so long to write and answered in a soft, silky voice. “This man you speak of, he has a personality of being dominated. He is gay, true?” and at Sasuke’s short nod continued. “He is a very submissive uke, one who can be controlled, not unlike that of a small puppy wanting only to please a cruel master. He has been abused in the past.” Sasuke concurred. “You say he is delicate, almost feminime in posture, and is easily intimidated.” She took off her small, oval glasses that were perched on the edge of her nose and looked at Sasuke. “Although it is extremely rare here in Japan, it may or may not be possible your friend harbors another personality beneath the surface. People like of whom you describe need an outlet for their frustrations and anger, so they create an alternate personality to do it for them. Most of the time, when they are returned to their normal state of mind they can recall none of their alter ego’s actions or doings. They may or may not know they share a body with another, but when they do they try everything they can to take it over completely. But your Naruto -” she paused meaningfully and again looked at her notes. “Speaking from a personal and professional perspective, I believe that this Uzumaki Naruto does not harbor another personality.” Sasuke’s held breath whooshed out with relief. “But,” she continued, “I could always be wrong. The only real way to see if he has a split personality is to moniter his every movement, all of his attitude changes, and perhaps place him in situations that may force out the other personality.”
Sasuke nodded, most of his doubts alleviated, but not all. Like the psychotherapist had said, there was still a possibility that Naruto could have Gaara as an alter ego. Now that Kakashi had taken him off the case, that bastard (though he supposed it was a hell of a lot better than getting fired) he was here on his own time and money - and a psychotherapist costed a lot, especially to his meager detective’s salary. Whatever the hell that was. He nodded again, and got to his feet, stretching his legs that were beginning to fall asleep. Maybe that’s why these psychotherapists take so much time, he thought as he politely shook the woman’s hand, they can afford it at $50 an hour. He left with little answers and more questions, but still determined as hell to find the real murderer and clear Naruto’s name.
When he left, his wallet considerably emptier, he once again headed over toward Naruto’s apartment. It had been closed off to the general public as a crime scene and was boarded up, but as the lead detective in the case (but not anymore, he thought bitterly) he could get into it.
He stood in the silent and dark apartment and cast a glance around the room. This was what, his third or fourth time here, it had been thoroughly searched by several different people, and yet he was here again. But this time he was looking for something discreet - something so common no one would think differently of it - yet something that had the ability to smash someone’s skull in or drive the bridge of a nose into the brain.
The key, he knew, to solving this would be to find this so-called Gaara in person, linking him directly to the murders, and clearing Naruto. He couldn’t help but wonder what Gaara looked like - was he feminime and delicate, like Naruto was, or was he large and muscled, like the beefy detective he talked to? Something, he thought, something had to drive on that incredible strength, the speed and stealth in which he snuck upon his victims, the required complete lack of human consciousness - or maybe, he reveled in the hunt, in playing God, in knowing that he held a life in his hands... he grit his teeth. No way. Naruto wasn’t the killer, and he wasn’t harboring another personality, especially not one so... so monsterous. Into such a threat to mankind.
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Chapter notes: A/N: Yeah... it's been awhile since I've updated, huh...? I have 26 reviews! Yay! I'm so happy! Invincible is in about its 7th chapter and still going strong. Yay! I'm so happy! Yes, I'm a happy person, sue me. Anyway, please enjoy and review! I love getting reviews! They make me happy!!!!!! (Don't kill me!!) Lol. Enjoy! SBP